by Barry Reese
“No.”
Jenny laughed. “Okay. Forget all the stuff about there being more than one of me. All you really need to know is this: I shift through time. Before I arrived here, I was in Seattle in 1994, watching Pearl Jam in concert. Best grunge band ever.”
Evelyn began to think that this girl was either insane, or at least so beyond whatever Evelyn could conceive of—that they would never understand one another. “Do you know my husband?” she finally asked.
“Max Davies, aka the Peregrine.” Jenny sounded like she was reciting something she’d memorized at school. “Witnessed his father gunned down before his eyes at the age of eight. Driven both his personal desire for vengeance and by visions induced by his dead father, Max traveled the world and mastered martial arts, the sciences, and more. He became the Peregrine, one of the foremost heroes of the so-called Great Age of Vigilantism.”
“So you’ve never met him,” Evelyn said.
“Right. But I’ve come back in time because that’s what I’m supposed to do. See, while I was in Seattle I did a little surfing around on the Internet, looking for references to Jenny Everywhere. I know, I know,” Jenny laughed as she finished off the pancakes. “Makes me sound like an egotist. But it’s fun, and sometimes it helps me figure out what I should do next. I found a black-and-white photograph of me with your husband on this conspiracy/occult site, dated 1946. Read up on it and voila, here I am!”
“So in the future, you read that you met my husband in 1946… so you came to the past to do that.”
“Right-o!”
“And what are you supposed to do with the Peregrine? Just talk to him?”
Jenny shook her head and her smile faded. She still retained her ever-present aura of optimism, but it was clear that she didn’t consider her next words to be funny in the least. “No, ma’am. I’m going to help him save the world.”
Evelyn crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the sink. She’d remained standing during this entire exchange, but she was beginning to feel like she should have stayed in bed. “But if you’re from the future, that’s a foregone conclusion, right? Obviously if the world is around in 1994, then that means that Max saves it in 1946.”
“Not necessarily. I was in a future, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it was your future.”
Evelyn felt like she was growing older by the second. William, on the other hand, began to giggle, and Jenny reached out to tickle him, sending him into spasms of laughter. This, in turn, led to Emma cackling, as well.
Smiling, Evelyn asked one last thing that was nagging at her. “And what exactly are you and my husband going to save the world from?”
Jenny’s voice never quavered as she spoke—which was good, because otherwise Evelyn would have thought she was joking. “Adolf Hitler is a vampire.”
CHAPTER X
The Gateway to Heaven
Belladonna stood a few feet behind Stickman, who was facing one of the famed Easter Island statues. In his remaining limb he held a piece of paper on which Bella had scrawled out the message he was supposed to read aloud.
Storm clouds passed quickly above their heads, and a bright flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the sky. There was an energy to the proceedings that was completely impossible to ignore. Bella wasn’t sure if she was more nervous or turned on.
Near her feet lay Leonid Kaslov, who had slowly begun to warm back into consciousness. He remained motionless, though he was convinced that Bella knew he was no longer too frozen to take action. He remained confused as to why she had chosen not to kill him, for his body had been too chilled for him to have heard her explanation. Still, Kaslov was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Stickman hesitated for a brief moment before launching into the written statement. He didn’t trust Bella and knew that she could easily have mistranslated this spell—a few misspoken words could sometimes have catastrophic consequences. But he also sensed her eagerness to see the gateway to heaven opened up, and he wondered if she truly thought that her willpower would prove greater than his. The idea that the angel would grant Bella her wishes over Stickman was almost laughable. At least Kaslov was unconscious, meaning he’d have no chance of interrupting the process.
“The Peregrine’s on his way,” Bella prompted, beginning to get tired of waiting.
Stickman grunted, thinking that perhaps he should simply snap her neck and be done with her. If she’d translated correctly, he no longer needed her—and if she had failed, then chances are they would all suffer for it when he read out the mistranslation.
Deciding once more to err on the side of caution, Stickman raised his chin and began to read. His voice was strong and steady, despite the rush of emotion he felt. The words were in Latin, and Bella had helped him practice his pronunciation before he began, but he still felt like he was uttering gibberish.
Bella looked around as the sky continued to churn. Suddenly, in the midst of a particularly dangerous-looking cloud, a ray of light cut forth. It projected straight down towards the island, coming to a brightly glowing halt just in front of Stickman.
Leonid Kaslov was unable to resist the temptation to turn his head slightly so that he could view what was happening. He saw a humanoid shape descending the column of light, walking down it with amazing ease and grace. The figure was undeniably male, for he was naked and quite beautiful, with a pair of oversized bird-like wings that spread out from his back.
Bella noticed Kaslov’s movement out of the corner of her eye but chose not to say anything. She knew she was playing with fire by allowing him to be alert when the angel came before them; if the stories were true and the angel would respond to the one with the strongest will, that could very well by the Russian superman. But she also knew that this “angel” could be nothing more than a demon in disguise—or, even worse, that Stickman could be granted his ultimate desires, in which case she might need Kaslov to help her stop him.
Bella couldn’t resist an excited grin. She’d never been able to deny that she was attracted to danger—even during the horrible torment she’d suffered at the hands of the doctor, she’d felt a bit of a thrill.
The angelic being stopped, hovering in the air above them, some thirty feet up. His face was handsome and his eyes shone with the wisdom of the ages. All three of the people below were lost in his rapturous gaze. When he spoke, the wind seemed to carry his words directly into their hearts and minds:
I HAVE COME IN ANSWER TO YOUR SUMMONS. LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE ONE OF THE SIX SACRED LANGUAGES WAS SPOKEN. AS WAS WRIT LONG AGO, I SHALL NOW JUDGE THOSE WHO STAND BEFORE ME.. THE ONE WHOSE SPIRIT IS MOST STRONG SHALL RECEIVE THE BLESSINGS OF THE ALMIGHTY AND YOUR WISHES SHALL BE MADE REAL.
Leonid Kaslov struggled to his feet, managing to avoid attracting Stickman’s attention. Abraham Klee appeared either incapable of unwilling of looking away from the angel. Kaslov wasn’t sure who or what this entity truly was, but he was nearly certain that it wasn’t an angel—at least not what was generally thought of as an angel. Since did God answer what was obviously a summoning spell and grant wishes?
The angel looked at each of them and then spoke again, a smile on his lovely lips. TELL ME YOUR NAMES, SO THAT I MIGHT KNOW WHO IT IS THAT SEEKS THE EMBRACE OF THE ONE TRUE LORD.
Stickman moved forward two steps and turned his wood-covered face to the sky. “I was born Abraham Klee, but I was reborn as Stickman.”
“And I’m Belladonna.” Bella spoke with an enthusiasm that surprised even her. After all the minor thefts she’d pulled off over the past few years, she’d finally stumbled onto the big time… it was an incredible rush. “That’s not the name I was born with, either, but it’s the only one that matters now.”
The angel nodded and then turned his powerful gaze upon Leonid Kaslov, who seemed to show no immediate inclination to name himself. AND YOU? WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
Kaslov shook his head. “Not important. I don’t play games with false idols.”
The angel’s
face darkened abruptly, and a rumble of thunder made the ground shake. Stickman looked accusingly at first Kaslov and then at Bella, whom he blamed for Kaslov’s continued existence.
The angel’s booming voice made everyone, including the normally unflappable Kaslov, start. YOU DARE PRESUME TO JUDGE ME? YOU DARE CLAIM ME TO BE A FALSE IDOL?
Kaslov nodded. “I do.”
The angel pointed a finger at Kaslov and lightning burned the ground in front of the Russian. DO NOT TRY MY PATIENCE.
Kaslov shrugged his rugged shoulders. “I could say the same to you. I have no doubt that you have the power to kill me, but I’d prefer that to lying down like a simpering idiot in front of you just because you have a pair of wings. You’re not an angel—even the terrifying entities from the Old Testament wouldn’t behave the way you are. And the Judeo-Christian God doesn’t typically engage in acts of wish granting, especially not when the only criteria is that you know the right words to say. So who do you really serve?”
The angel looked troubled for the first time in this conversation. A HIGHER POWER, he said. ENOUGH WITH THIS. THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO RULE. THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT WHO HAS THE WILL TO EARN THE BLESSING OF MY LORD. NAMELESS MAN, WHAT IS THY WISH?
“No!” Stickman roared, throwing down the translated spell and pointed his remaining arm at Kaslov. “I was the one who summoned the angel! I am the one who deserves this prize!”
Bella said nothing, but she began taking several steps back, planning to bolt if need be. She could feel that something bad was about to happen, but she couldn’t turn away, either. Her damned addiction to danger was kicking in again, and she found herself titillated by the possible apocalypse that was about to occur.
She backed into something firm and unyielding, and at first she thought it to be one of the many statues that ringed the area, but then hands came up and gripped her firmly. She turned her head to see that her brother was standing there. Behind him was the Peregrine, a glowing dagger in the vigilante’s grip. The Peregrine nodded at Bella and motioned for her to be quiet.
Kaslov did not seem intimidated by Stickman’s outburst. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the angel, a cool smile touching his lips. “Fine. I’ll accept your offer. I wish that Abraham Klee would get what he deserves.”
The angel seemed surprised but pleased. Stickman, on the other hand, suddenly looked uncertain.
VERY WELL, the angel declared. LET THE MAN BORN AS ABRAHAM KLEE ACCEPT THE GIFTS FOR WHICH HE IS DESERVING.
Stickman was suddenly bathed in light, and he threw up his remaining arm to try and block the glare. He screamed as a wave of energy wrapped around him, lifting him up into the air, several feet off the ground. His eyes opened wide as images began to flood into his mind: he was sitting on a bloody throne, flames dancing behind him as he sat on the White House lawn. At his feet, collar around her neck, sat Belladonna, looking properly broken. Stickman’s mouth opened wide as his mind was locked away into a world of fantasy… Stickman let out a moan of ecstasy. He had won, vanquished all his foes! It was heaven.
And then the angel released his grip on the killer and Klee fell to the ground, splintering into a million pieces. His unholy life came to an abrupt end, but he felt no pain. Even at the last moment, all he knew was pleasure.
Bella blinked in shock as Stickman died, and she quickly turned around to bury her face in her Zadak’s chest. She’d seen horrible things before, but she didn’t usually see people she knew so well die before her eyes.
The angel turned his attentions now to the four remaining individuals, his eyes narrowing as he saw the Knife of Elohim in the Peregrine’s hand. YOU BEAR ONE OF THE SACRED BLADES, BATHED IN THE BLOOD OF CHRIST.
The Peregrine nodded once in greeting to Kaslov and then looked back at the angel. “I do. And the way it’s glowing right now indicates that it’s in the presence of evil… so I’m guessing you’re the one setting it off.”
The angel began to descend, landing about fifteen feet from the group. Bella had pulled free of her brother now and was staring at the winged figure with obvious suspicion.
“You’re not really an angel, are you?” she asked.
The angel shrugged. MY APPEARANCE CHANGES BASED UPON THE VIEWS OF THOSE WHO SUMMON ME. THIS IS THE SKIN I NOW WEAR. YOU VIEW ME AS AN ANGEL. I AM AN ANGEL.
“What are you really?” Bella demanded.
“Harriet, be careful,” Zadak warned, but his sister shrugged off his hand on her arm and took a step towards the angel.
“The prophecy said you were an angel and you would grant us our wishes.”
The angel nodded. AND I DID GRANT THE WISH, THE WISH ASKED FOR BY THE STRONGEST WILLED AMONGST YOU. I AM A DJINN, A TRADER IN WISHES. I WAS BOUND BY A POWERFUL SPELL LONG AGO. I CAN ONLY COME FORTH NOW WHEN SUMMONED. I GRANT A WISH AND THEN I AM FREE FOR TWENTY YEARS. LONG HAVE I LOOKED FORWARD TO BEING FREE AGAIN!
Zadak glanced over at the Peregrine. “I have the feeling that having him running around for twenty years might not be a good thing.”
Max was definitely in agreement. He stepped to the front of the little group, his shoes inadvertently crunching pieces of Stickman’s remains to even smaller shards. “Do you have a name, Djinn?”
NOTHING THAT COULD BE PRONOUNCED BY YOUR LIMITED VOCAL CHORDS, the Djinn replied.
“Too bad. I was hoping to carve something on your tombstone.” The Peregrine whipped his arm back and then threw the Knife of Elohim. The blade struck home, embedding itself in the Djinn’s neck. As the demon’s hands flew up to staunch the flow of his golden-colored blood, the Bella raised her hands and summoned her blood-chilling powers. She quickly began to freeze the air around the Djinn, allowing tiny droplets of ice to form on his skin. Kaslov and the Peregrine both moved forward, the Peregrine drawing his pistols and beginning to open fire on the Djinn while Kaslov picked up a heavy rock and tossed it with unerring accuracy at the Djinn’s face. The rock shattered the demon’s nose, sending more blood into the air.
The Djinn’s angelic form was now beginning to alter considerably. His skin became a dull grayish-blue in color and his eyes were now glowing brightly. His wings suddenly burst into flames, and he screamed in pain and anger. The sonic force of his shout was enough to knock the Peregrine backwards, and it was only Kaslov’s quick reflexes that allowed the Russian superman to catch Max in mid-air.
Zadak scrambled to take cover behind one of the large statues, feeling strangely useless. He saw his sister ramping up her powers, causing the air all around the Djinn to suddenly crystallize.
The Djinn snarled in her direction, and from his eyes came a burst of flame. Zadak screamed as Bella disappeared in the pyre, but she emerged a second later, having thrown herself free. She rolled head over heels and then came up into a crouch.
The Peregrine had been put back on his feet by this time and had once more taken aim with his pistols. A bullet slammed into the Djinn’s skull, and the demon swayed unsteadily. He was still leaking blood from his other wounds, especially from his neck, where the Knife of Elohim still dangled. The Djinn reached for the mystic blade, but his fingertips sizzled upon contact and he jerked his hand free.
It was at this moment that Kaslov ran towards the Djinn and grasped him in his mighty arms. The cold emanating from the demon was painful and reminded Kaslov of his own recent predicament. Even so, he held on firmly and shouted to the Peregrine, “Now! End this before he gets free!”
Max tossed aside his pistols and grabbed hold of the Knife of Elohim. He gave the blade a solid twist, which elicited a cry of agony from the Djinn, and then yanked it loose. He then slammed it hard into the creature’s throat, causing a fountain of blood to spray onto the front of the Peregrine’s clothing. The Djinn thrashed harder for a moment and then grew limp in Kaslov’s arms.
The Peregrine gave the creature one final stab and then stepped back, allowing Kaslov to drop the Djinn to the ground.
“Is he dead?” Zadak asked, stepping forward.
“Looks like it,”
Bella said, giving the Djinn a hard kick to the face. “Yeah, I’d say he’s dead.”
“Utterly bizarre,” Zadak said with a shake of his head. “Absolutely nothing that I came across in my readings on this subject indicated any ties to Djinn or any other Islamic folklore.”
Bella looked at her brother and grinned. “Wasn’t this fun?”
“Fun?” Zadak asked, narrowing his eyes. “We very nearly unleashed a terrible evil on all mankind!”
“Think about what you just said,” Bella said, beginning to laugh. “It’s hilarious!”
The Peregrine took this as his cue to enter the conversation. He was brushing away blood and gore from his clothing, but he still managed to favor Bella with a withering glare. “Is that why you left those clues for me? Because you thought it would be fun to have me along for the ride?”
“I knew there was a chance things could go poorly, so I wanted insurance that the world wasn’t going to get blown up. I wasn’t expecting to get Leonid Kaslov and my brother involved, too!”
“Things like this are not appropriate avenues for ‘fun,’” Kaslov commented. He had picked up the fallen translation tablet and was studying it. “For the good of humanity, this should be destroyed.” Without waiting for anyone to respond, Kaslov flexed his mighty muscles and crushed the tablet.
Both Bella and Zadak flinched, realizing what had been lost, but neither made a sound of protest.
The Peregrine looked up as rain began to fall, soaking the ground. “Let’s head back to the plane.” He gestured towards Bella. “And you, young lady, have some things to answer for. I want to know what role you played in the death of Reed Barrows and how integral to Stickman’s plans you were. Despite the fact you led me here, you were an accomplice of his!”
Zadak put an arm around his sister’s shoulder, noting that at least she had the good sense to look chastened. He knew her well enough, however, to recognize that there was still a flicker of amusement in her eyes… and it disturbed him.